blacker than the white of the snow
by ohmygodwhy
Summary: "you have seen this sunset at least twenty six times, but you know you'll probably lose count sooner or later. you don't want to do this anymore." —sans, and timelines; character study


_guess who's officially in undertale hell_

* * *

i.} the first time everything rewinds, you're surprised. you thought things were going pretty darn well.

the whole underground was hyped, because wow, a _human?_ the younger kids had only heard stories and you were pretty sure _you_ were the first one to meet them— a little thing that didn't quite reach your height (a feat in and of itself, that you reveled in), who actually laughed at the whoopee cushion thing and you decided you liked this kid, whoever they were.

the stories about humans were all fiction, you thought, at least when it came to this one. this kid couldn't- wouldn't- hurt a thing. not you. not pap. not even mettaton. which was a hard thing to do.

and man, you hadn't seen your brother so happy in who knows how long, setting up a bunch of his awesome puzzles, and the kid really _threw him a bone_ , solved all his tricks, became friends with him because really, who wouldn't wanna be friends with papyrus? people were just naturally drawn to him— he was too nice for his own good, always had been.

hell, the kid even managed to make friends with _undyne_ , with _alphys,_ awkward stammering alphys with her cartoons who you watched shitty movies with sometimes and she'd laugh at all your _humerus_ jokes. who was hardly ever outside anymore and seemed like she was hiding some guilty secret sometimes and yeah. incredible.

then there was some shit with a flower and frisk had to fight the king and they made it to the surface? it was all very fast and confusing but hey, they made it to the surface, and you met the woman from the other side of the door, and you weren't complaining.

the sunset was nice, you'd never seen so many colors all mixed in to one. and you sat with frisk and you sorta just watched it and then—

you rubbed at your eyes and rolled over in your bed. and you'd never had a dream that vivid brfore, and you could still feel the sun on your bones and though whatever the heck that was faded fast, you felt weird. you felt _off_ , somehow.

* * *

ii.} you meet a human that looks unsettlingly familiar, and something, a memory of a memory that you can't quite remember, flickers somewhere in the back of your mind.

but this- this kid. you shake this kid's hand and when you pull back there's something white and powdery and dusty on your hands, and this kid doesn't laugh at your jokes. doesn't stop for the puzzles. which is sort of maybe okay, but if this kid fights your brother, you're not sure it would be… good.

and. and monsters start disappearing, left and right and all over the place, and this has _never happened before,_ as far as you know. and everything's spiraling way too quickly and?

and then paps doesn't come home for dinner one day. and you worry because, hey, disappearing monsters thing, so you look (he's fine, he probably got his cape stuck in tree again or something, maybe he's training his heart out, maybe he's at undyne's).

you see something in the snow: a splash of red, stark against the white.

and. and you know that red, you'd know it anywhere, and it's supposed to be caught in a tree or something, not crumpled on the floor like it fell off someone's neck. and you glance this way and that and calls papyrus's name a few times, and then louder, and everything's really quiet and really cold, you feel _chilled to the bone_ , and you bend down and.

and there's the white powdery dusty stuff again, all over the cape and settling into the snow, and you've never actually seen a monsters die before but you've seen people sprinkling that powdery stuff over that monster's favorite thing or place. and the powdery stuff is all over pap's cape and he'd never leave it out in the snow and it's _all over his cape._

and. and oh. wow. damn. it takes a minute or two to think about and another few minutes for you to comprehend because _oh._

 _oh no_.

you clutch the cape so tightly you feel like your fingers might break and your hands are shaking and you can't remember the last time you cried, and monsters are dying and your brother is probably, maybe, certainly _dead_ and it's the kid, it's the kid, all of this started when the kid showed up _it's that goddamn kid._

and you don't know what to do. you don't want to get up or. or anything. but you scoop up some of the powdery snow (it's sort of fitting; papyrus had been super excited about living someplace snowy) and you go home and you put the snow on the windowsill in the kitchen and you wrap the tattered cape around your neck and you sit on the couch and everything starts to really sink in and.

wow.

undyne's dead, too, suddenly, and so is that spider chick and so is mettaton and alphys tries to evacuate everyone and then she's dead too.

you are the last line of defense for the king. it's one of the things you promised. and you also promised that woman on the other side of that door that you'd never hurt a human that found their way here but hey, sometimes you have to break promises to keep other ones.

the kid shows up all covered in dust and just grins at you like they're having the time of their little life.

and shit, you're angry, you don't think you've ever been this angry before, felt this level of hatred before, and the kid's all filled up with LOVE from everyone they've destroyed, and all you can think is: _killer, you killer, you goddamn dirty brother killer._

and then- another wow, cuz this kid's just full of evil little surprises- there's a knife driving up your chest, the same knife that killed your brother, probably, and then. wow.

 _wow._

everything goes dark and.

wow.

you really wish you'd had a chance to eat at grillby's one last time.

* * *

iii.} you stumble over yourself like you fell asleep standing up, and you're pretty sure you were _dead,_ just a minute ago. you feel like you're waking up from a dream.

you see your brother, and you have never been happier to see him.

the kid shows up.

self defense, maybe, and a few monsters turn to dust. your brother turns to dust, because he is so damn trusting and too damn kind and when you see that splash of red, you feel like you've done this before.

 _you dirty brother killer._

you let the kid fight the king.

* * *

iv.} there is dust when you shake their hand this time, and the fact that you think _'this time'_ confuses you.

* * *

x.} sometimes your brother dies, and sometimes he does not.

sometimes undyne dies, and sometimes she does not. everyone has lived twice. everyone has died three times.

you're all stuck in some sort of hellish time loop, and you're the only one who realizes.

you're afraid.

you think you might be going crazy.

* * *

xx.} once, you try to save your brother. you know when he dies, you've seen the aftermath too many times, that red red red against the white, and you think maybe you can stop it, but. all you do is see it.

there's no slow motion anything, like there is in the movies. you're running through the snow and pap is fighting that little demon this time and you arrive just in time to see a punch and a slice and then your brother is crumbling and crumbling and disappearing.

 _"I still believe in you!"_ he says to the _demon_ with the knife and the grin and all that dust and.

you don't want to do this anymore.

* * *

xxiii.} you think that maybe you can save him, if you try hard enough, and so you try again, you know exactly when it usually happens, you have everything down like clockwork at this point, because you've lived through way too many different versions.

problem is, you're usually way across town when it happens, but you try. you run.

* * *

xxvii.} and you run.

* * *

xxviii.} and run.

* * *

xxix.} and run.

* * *

xxx.} it never works. you don't want to see it again. you think you're kind of a shitty brother, because it _never works._

* * *

xxxv.} until it does, and you're there, just before. and there's that goddamn knife and you're _right there, just before._

and _shit,_ you didn't think a slice to the ribs could hurt so badly, but the kid's not half-dead and running on sheer determination alone.

and you're the one crumbling in front of your brother this time, and his hands are grasping your shoulders too tight and he looks all sorts of terrified and scared, and you think you maybe say something cool like: calm down, pap, you gotta _keep your head_ , and try to laugh and instead of angry, pap looks heartbroken.

you feel vaguely guilty for that as you sort of just disintegrate. fall apart and slip through your bro's fingers, and you think that this'll change things, that pap will stop everything, because he's super cool and strong and if he can't fix this, nobody can.

when time rewinds, you sort of wish that the anomaly had finally gotten bored. that that had how it really ended. that you could just be _gone,_ and everyone could be happy without having it ripped away again.

but no.

of course not.

* * *

XL. } you fight the kid over and over and over again. you've learned each other's attacks by now. you knows their runs and their throws and how their bones crack when you toss them into a wall too many times. and they know how you move and all of your attacks, and it's getting harder and harder to win, and harder and harder to find it in yourself to keep trying to win.

you know none of this will mean anything, in the long run. you just want it to stop.

but pap keeps dying and so does everyone else, so you'll keep going.

you just hope that next time, it'll be the 'mettaton's brand new agents' timeline, or the one where undyne takes over, maybe. or the one where you all reach the surface.

you don't know whether you love that one, or hate it the most.

* * *

LXXXIII} you have seen this sunset at least twenty six times, but you know you'll probably lose count sooner or later.

you've driven in a car and explored the cities, and you've sat next to frisk and watched this sunset with them twenty six times, just like the first time, and things are going pretty damn well.

and you don't understand why things can't just _stay like this_ , why they're never satisfied or that shitty flower won't leave them alone, but you know. you know.

you say just as much to frisk and they look at you and—

you blink up at the ceiling in your messy little room.

reset.


End file.
